


Call Him Aidan

by LinguistLove_24



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Car Accidents, Death, Drug Use, F/F, Friendship/Love, Physical Disability, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:53:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9870281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinguistLove_24/pseuds/LinguistLove_24
Summary: -What happens to a family when a child is born what society deems less than perfect?Brought over from ff.net





	1. Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> This story revolves around a child being born with physical disability, how that can affect a family, a marriage, and one's esteem and view of themselves while facing challenges many never have to think of and naturally, will deal with some heavy material in some chapters. If that isn't something you think you can handle, this is your warning. I myself have lived with a physical disability since birth, and though this will not be strictly based on my life experiences and is a work of fiction, writing this definitely stems from a place of deep knowledge and understanding. My own challenges are not something I typically go into detail about, and I will not do so here but as well as providing (hopefully) interesting reading material to my followers, I also did this in hopes of maybe spreading even the slightest bit of disability awareness to those who may not have previously thought about it at all.
> 
> Brought it over from Fanfiction.net though I haven't cross posted too many things and like to keep all my pages having different material from each other. I loved writing this and have been working on more chapters to it recently, so decided to put it up for my audience here as I've grown to like posting on AO3 the most of anywhere.

**Call Him Aidan**

 

 

 

 

 

**Chapter One:**

**Guilt**

 

 

_“Guilty is the only way to describe it; the kind of guilt that shows itself in the tear stains on my pillows at night, even if its presence is irrational. The kind that is ever present, all consuming, and may never end. That's what's on my heart every day.”-Amanda_

 

 

 

“I want a yellow one!”

 

 

Amanda Rollins heard the voice of her son pulling her from yet another one of her deep trances. She slipped into these almost comatose states of mind frequently and consistently with the turn her life had taken. They happened during her morning coffee, while she hastily flipped the pages of the morning paper, not really processing anything, the words becoming mere blobs of ink before her. During quiet days at home, while she worried about how her only child was faring at school, hoping it wouldn't be yet another day he came home crying because heartless inconsiderate children wouldn't embrace him. They happened too, during what were supposed to be important conversations with her wife. Olivia would all too often catch her daydreaming, knowing that these 'daydreams' consisted of concern, worry and stress rather than happy things. Sometimes what would have been a simple conversation between them in years past took much longer to get through due to the older woman having to repeat and remind her of what it was she was saying.

 

 

 

“You do? Well, when we go see the special doctors again, you tell them when they give you the big book of colors to choose from that you want a yellow one, okay?”

 

 

“I will.”

 

 

The feeling of a much stronger and more masculine hand covering her own made the corners of the blonde's mouth lift slightly into a smile as they drove on toward the direction of home and she continued listening to the back and forth between the five year old and his mother as they discussed what he most looked forward to with the impending arrival of a new wheelchair.

 

 

He needed them frequently, as he seemed to grow faster than either of his mothers could blink. Something was always needing altering, adjusting, or changing, and when it became impossible to accommodate his ever growing and changing young body any longer, one piece of equipment was swapped for another, all the paperwork and funding requests for something that was so necessary and seemed so simple (but was entirely too complicated) having to be done once again.

 

 

“You okay?” The brunette sitting next to her in the driver's seat didn't let go of her hand as she asked this. Her tone was soft, expression concerned.

 

 

“Yeah, just thinkin' is all. I'm fine.” Rather than look at her, she focused her gaze on what was passing by outside the windowpane. It was hard for her to hide her real feelings in moments where her eyes locked with Olivia's; as if she could see right into the depth of her soul, knew exactly when her spirit was broken, even when Amanda insisted it wasn't. For this reason, she tried to entirely avoid confrontation with the truth.

 

“You're not fine, but we'll talk about it at home.”

 

They did their best not to have arguments or talk about adult things in front of Aidan. He had a knowledge beyond anything his five years called for, and had already seen and dealt with so much no child should ever have to. They tried to make him feel as loved and provide as normal a life as possible. It wasn't easy, though. Many nights since his arrival into the world one or both of the two women had risen their voices what they believed to be a little too loudly, fought over insignificant things while avoiding the bigger problems, and cried themselves to sleep. Sometimes, in entirely separate locations in the house.

 

 

“Mommy?” his voice was small and curious in the back seat, and Olivia momentarily feared that he'd picked up on pieces of their adult conversation, having been unable to hide anything within the cramped quarters of their vehicle.

 

 

“Yes, baby?” she said as cheerfully as possible, glancing at him through the glass of the visor mirror slightly askew in front of her.

 

 

“Do I have to go to school tomorrow? I wanna stay home with you and Mama.”

 

 

“Yes, Aidan, you do.” The blonde piped up, uncharacteristically firm and authoritative before Olivia had a chance to respond. Though she would stand by her wife in her position, she was taken aback by her sternness. Usually, she was the stricter parent, while Amanda was a lot more lenient. That's not to say she wasn't a good parent, because she was an excellent one. There wasn't anyone she could think of to better mother her kids with. They just had their own ways of dealing with the feelings that came along with having to raise a special needs child, and Amanda sometimes indulged his desires more because she felt guilty. The logic may not make sense to a lot of people, but having been by her side every step of the journey, Olivia understood it.

 

 

“But I hate school.”

 

“Why?”

 

 

“'Cause kids always make fun of me, and nobody wants to play at recess. They all think I'm weird.”

 

 

Olivia was pretty good at keeping her emotions in check in front of him when it came to things like this, but one look at Amanda and the hard exterior she'd instantly tried to assume and it was obvious her blood was boiling on the inside, yet another small notch, sharp as jagged broken glass, being carved out of her once whole and intact spirit.

 

 

“I'm sure that's not true, honey.” Only Olivia heard the thickness of tears lodged in the back of her wife's throat that she was trying so desperately to hide.

 

 

“Yes it is, nobody wants to be friends with me. Everyone gets to do fun things and I have to stay behind.”

 

 

Amanda felt her heart crush into a thousand pieces at the sadness in his voice. The hardest part was not that he was sad, but that he was living a type of sadness which she knew she couldn't fix. One that she feared would manifest itself all the more deeply and permanently as he grew older and all the obstacles in his world became greater. The things he understood, were things she often wished she had the power to erase from his young mind.

 

 

“I would be friends with you,” Olivia piped up, looking in the mirror and seeing that her attempt to lift his spirits had at least made him giggle a little. “I'd be your bodyguard against all those mean playground bullies, with my bulletproof vest and everything.”

 

 

“You're my Mommy, you're 'posta say that!”

 

 

“Maybe, but I still would. Mama would too. We would both do anything to protect you, Aidan. We just want you to be happy.”

 

 

“I know Mommy, I love you.”

 

 

"I love you, too."

 

The movement of the car and the comfort of having both his mothers with him seemed to be enough to put Aidan Rollins into a deep sleep, but neither woman was surprised. Even as a baby, long walks or car rides at any hour had seemed to be enough to eliminate any long nights of fussing or crying and left the two ladies relatively stress free throughout a good period of his infancy. They were grateful for it, too. A lot more than they'd expected had been in store for them when it came to their son and when it hit, his sleep or lack of it had become the least of their worries.

 

  
  


"I got 'em," the blonde said, automatically delegating the task of retrieving the day's haul of groceries and other goods to the older woman while she ducked down into the car for their sleeping child, trying to maneuver so she could get a decent grip while not waking him at the same time.

  
  


  
  


"I'll bring his chair in when I'm done hauling this," the brunette said, lifting up the bags in her arms to emphasize what 'this' was, as if her wife wasn't already aware.

  
  


  
  


Amanda acknowledged her wife's statement with a brief nod of the head and carried her son, sleeping in her arms, positioned as if he were an overgrown baby, into the house. The victory she felt in not having woken him was a small one, but it was one to her nonetheless. Both ladies knew that when Aidan was awakened for any reason, the task of getting him back to sleep could feel like hell on earth.

  
  


  
  


Placing him gently down in his bed, she felt a knot start in the pit of her stomach as his eyes fluttered, beginning to open. This knot came about for many reasons, and so often, that she second guessed a lot if it ever really went away or had just become a permanent fixture; a mere annoyance that she'd become so accustomed to she began not to notice it.

  
  


  
  


"Mama, I'm hungry. Where's Mommy?" he said groggily, attempting to sit himself up but laying gently back into the pillow when he seemed to recall the affliction with which he'd been born, realizing sitting up required support that at the moment, he didn't have.

  
  


  
  


"I know you are. Mommy is getting stuff out of the car and then I'm gonna start dinner, okay? Go back to sleep and one of us will come get you when it's ready."

  
  


  
  


"Okay." Closing his eyes, a smile played at the corners of his mouth. Amanda stayed just long enough to hear his breathing even out and tiptoed out of the room, happy that for once getting him back to sleep hadn't seemed like a knock down drag out fight.

  
  


  
  


Making her way out into the kitchen she saw Aidan's chair folded neatly against a wall, all the pieces that had been detached in order to fit it into the trunk of their car placed just as tidily next to it. The sound of chopping caused her gaze to move swiftly from the chair to the middle of the kitchen where her wife was standing, methodically chopping vegetables and waiting for something to cook in the oven behind her.

  
  


  
  


"Y'need a hand?" The question was met with a smile from the older woman, and eyes that were warm and appreciative.

  
  


  
  


"Sure, I'm almost done chopping these, but you could chop some onions and throw together a salad for me if you want."

  
  


  
  


"Absolutely." As she moved about the kitchen opening random cupboards in search of a chopping board and salad bowl, there were brief moments where she brushed unintentionally against Olivia; their hips colliding, hands making the briefest of contact as the brunette moved her things over to make space for her wife at the worktop, sending little bits of electricity shooting through each of their fingers.

  
  


  
  


"Sorry," Amanda mumbled almost incoherently. She wasn't sure why, but the contact had caused her cheeks to redden considerably, and with unfounded self consciousness flooding over her, she felt the need to utter some kind of apology.

  
  


  
  


"For what?" Head cocked to one side, eyebrow raised, the brunette looked at her quizzically. "I'm your wife, and you need to apologize for a couple of our body parts touching? Honey, are you feeling okay?"

  
  


  
  


_Guilty is the only way to describe it; the kind of guilt that shows itself in the tear stains on my pillows at night, even if its presence is irrational. The kind that is ever present, all consuming, and may never end. That's what's on my heart every day._

  
  


  
  


Flashing involuntarily back to the words she'd said in confidence to her therapist just days prior, she knew in her heart of hearts she wasn't really okay. She hadn't been herself for a very long time, and it made her wonder if the old Amanda was lost forever. Therapy wasn't even something she'd wanted, not at first. It had been like pulling teeth for them to get her to talk. The first few sessions were wasted money, and though she wasn't one to accept charity from others, this was one time she'd been glad the money burned hadn't been hers. Eventually, she'd begun to tell this stranger things she hadn't even disclosed to her wife. It had become nice to have someone to talk to who could be objective about a situation and wasn't going through it with her. What scared her the most was that now, five years in to the roller coaster that had become their lives, she'd gotten better at talking to a stranger about the biggest obstacles and issues in her world and worse at being truthful with the woman who'd been there all along.

 

  
  


"Yeah, I'm okay."

 

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. But it was like a rush of waves she couldn't silence; the false assurances, fake smiles, pretend happiness. She made sure all of that surrounded her family, when what was going on inside of her was so loud it couldn't be drowned out. She wasn't sure if they suspected anything, but she wasn't okay. She was ridden with guilt of the deepest kind, and didn't know if okay would ever be a feeling she experienced again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. The Beginning: Arrivals Are Supposed to be Joyous

**Call Him Aidan**

**Chapter Two**

**The Beginning:**

**Arrivals Are Supposed to be Joyous**

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


_"I feel bad for wishing, for dreaming too much. For hoping for anything other than a healthy child."-Olivia_

 

  
  


Premature labour was not something she believed she'd ever have to think about in her life, never mind having to go through it with her own wife. In the depth of her heart, (a part of herself which she often shielded from the rest of humanity, minus a select few) Olivia Benson had felt the desire to be a mother. It had changed from a desire to much more of a pull when she'd become a part of the Special Victims Unit. Seeing the way so many children were treated, the injustice they were often dealt and living with the effects the tumultuous relationship with her own mother had left had all taught her what not to do and shown her clearly what she didn't want to be.

  
  


  
  


As much as the desire was present, in earlier years motherhood was not something she contemplated heavily or continually. With her volatile home life, days fluctuating mercilessly between hopeful and hopeless, (much more frequently erring on the side of hopeless, as she recalled) she hadn't much time for boyfriends. Actually she hadn't much time for any significant other at all, gender aside. She'd never had more than one night, no strings attached sort of arrangements with any woman before Amanda, and though she'd been open to the possibility of falling in love, she'd never expected it. Between the grueling hours of the job, with the toll it took on her body and her spirit, and her pessimistic ideas of love, the desire she had to be a mother stayed in the back of her mind as just that- desire. One that she often thought would always lack tangibility and remain a fantasy.

The admission of feelings for one another and the growth of a relationship between herself and Amanda Rollins did not happen easily or quickly; then again, nothing that was said to be worth it ever did. Both of them were extremely guarded in their own ways, for reasons that were somewhat similar, yet also entirely different. Neither of them had really fallen in love before letting their walls down with each other, and because of this had fought hard against allowing themselves to do so.

  
  


It was a slow and tedious process, learning to love another person. Not just embracing the good, but learning the bad, and embracing it just as readily; understanding all their quirky little habits, likes and dislikes, all the things that make them tick. Spending time enough around them to learn, while also getting under their skin just enough to expose and understand what needs to be understood. Communicating effectively, even when you don't have the energy, smiling when you don't want to, and laughing when you don't think you have it in you. These were all things they had learned to do over a period of dating and living together and the acquisition of knowledge and confidence in themselves and one another had led to their eventual marriage.

  
  


  
  


In the beginning, it had felt for both of the two women that the 'honeymoon phase' of their marriage would never end. They were happier than they'd both ever imagined being, despite some of the disapproval they'd received from outsiders and certain people in their lives with regards to their relationship. They'd managed to work through everything and became stronger as a unit as they did it. Only during this blissfully happy time, did Olivia begin to seriously contemplate the idea of a child coming into their lives. Being aware of the difficulties and challenges that may be ahead of them in regards to conceiving, she tried not to allow herself to get too excited before it was really happening. Both women knew entirely too well what it felt like when one thing after another failed to work in their favour, and because of this, thought of themselves as realists.

  
  


  
  


Eventually, it had worked in their favour, and they'd both gotten excited much more quickly than they wanted to or believed they would. They began telling people sooner than maybe they should have, but everyone had shared in their excitement and had assured them that they'd both be amazing parents. The procedures had not been cheap, but the happiness they'd felt the moment they'd realized it had taken and how it had intensified even more when they'd gotten past the 'out of the woods' stage, (or so they thought) had made it all worth it.

  
  


  
  


The moments in which she'd sat by her wife's head as she lay helplessly on the operating table being prepped for a C-section and waited for their son to make his appearance long before it was due, she'd chastised herself for being happy, for thinking that they were finally in the clear, that nothing like this could happen to them. Things like this _always_ happened to them. She knew better than anyone with the horrors her eyes had unfortunately been permitted to see that life didn't discriminate. She'd allowed elation to carry her to heights that were too high, and this fall back down to reality had come harder than any one before it.

 

  
  


_"I'm scared."_

  
  


  
  


_"I know honey, me too. But I'm right here. We can be scared together. I'm not going anywhere."_

  
  


  
  


_"You promise?"_

 

  
  


_"I swear on my life."_

  
  


  
  


They say that in times of crisis, the strongest of people go into survival mode. They don't think, don't feel, just have a primal instinct to do what needs to be done at all costs and propel themselves forward into doing it. In these terrifying moments, Olivia Benson was no exception. Everything around her was blocked out, the sounds of the doctors, the smells of the room; she fixated herself on her wife, doing whatever she knew how to do to reassure her that she was there, that it would be okay, even if she had no control over whether it was or wasn't. Even if she was terrified beyond anything she'd ever known inside herself.

  
  


  
  


They'd whisked him away to the NICU without either of his mothers being permitted to touch him. All they were given in the midst of chaos was that Amanda's hunch had been right, and it was a boy. Olivia's mind was spinning, and the blonde lay on the cold metal table a blubbering emotional mess. Neither of them could pick up on any medical jargon that was being spewed their way as their son, tinier than anything either of them had ever seen, was moved quickly away from them. So quickly, that if they'd blinked, they'd have questioned if he'd been there at all.

  
  


  
  


"Are you okay?" The blonde's voice was hollow, empty, and made her seem smaller than Olivia knew she was.

  
  


  
  


She knew she wasn't, but that what she was feeling couldn't be articulated with just a simple yes or no.

  
  


  
  


"I feel bad for wishing, for dreaming too much. For hoping for anything other than a healthy child."

  
  


  
  


She didn't expect the blonde to have words that would suffice as comfort, but the look in her eyes said that she understood.

  
  


  
  


As Olivia ran her fingers through her hair and tried unsuccessfully to suppress tears that threatened to fall, she couldn't help but think that they'd both been robbed of something they'd never get back. This was their first child, and arrivals were supposed to be joyous.

 

 


	3. The Beginning Part II: What's Wrong With Your Baby?

**Call Him Aidan**

**Chapter Three**

**The Beginning, Part II: What's Wrong With Your Baby?**

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


" _Life roughs us all up; no matter what you thought, what you wanted, what you wished, it all changes. When change comes we do what we have to. I know you're proud, but pride doesn't always pay. We all need a little help sometime."_

_-Alex_

Throughout her pregnancy, Amanda had no reason to suspect that anything was wrong. Aside from the occasional bouts of fatigue, she'd rarely even felt sick. Olivia being the ever faithful and doting wife had coddled her unnecessarily, at times driving her insane. During the times she'd sat in the NICU with her premature baby boy praying that he'd be okay, she hadn't complained about the excess of comfort her wife had tried to offer her. She accepted it in complete silence, showing gratitude in whatever small ways she could.

  
  


  
  


He was beautiful, all three pounds of him. Anyone else might not think so, they would have only seen him for his tiny, delicate frame and thin skin, becoming repulsed at the sight of all the wires and tubes attached to his fragile body in order to sustain life and promote his growth. But as the two ladies were so learning, the eyes of a mother held an entirely different view than the rest of the world. Every mother naturally thought that their baby was the cutest one, but when it came to situations like this where a child ended up being less than perfect, what may have simply been considered deformities or abnormalities to some, were badges of courage and marks of beauty to a mother. Though it had been hard to watch him fight and go through a hell neither of them could take away, neither of them ever questioned the fact that they had a little warrior on their hands.

  
  


  
  


They'd gone through months of going back and forth to the hospital, the NICU becoming a second home, the staff who worked there a second family. (Third, if you counted the team at SVU. When one member of the squad was down for the count, they made sure to go above and beyond to have that person's back) Olivia would arrive there after being run ragged and working herself to the bone saving other people's children, her spirits lifted on the good days with any news of even the smallest improvement and crushed on days when there wasn't any. The worst ones were the days when they didn't think there could possibly be any more evil in the world, only to take up their usual spot in the NICU to find out their son still wasn't healthy enough to come home, and that the only skin to skin contact they were permitted to have was putting their hands through an opening in his incubator. On those days, they cried with each other, minds numb and thinking that their spirits couldn't possibly be degraded any more.

  
  


  
  


There was an indescribable kind of emptiness that manifested itself inside you when forced continuously to return home without your child. It was like people expected you to go on with life as if you didn't have one at all; you were supposed to forget about the fact that there were unused bottles and sealed containers of formula sitting on a shelf in your cupboard, that the crib in the room down the hall lacked an inhabitant and his cries of longing for his parents in the middle of the night. Those closest to them were shown pictures and occasionally asked after Aidan's well being, but even then they did it in a way that was all too delicate, like they feared the bruising of egos and hurting of feelings.

  
  


  
  


  
  


As much as they relied on each other, the circumstances that had brought the two women together was also driving a sort of wedge between them. The medical bills had piled up, and Amanda knew that Olivia felt a tremendous weight on her shoulders to be a provider as well as to be there for her family and not miss out on anything when it came to their son. She began to work a lot of overtime to compensate for Amanda's being on maternity leave, and when they did cross paths the majority of their conversations pertained to Aidan. The grueling hours of the job and the toll it took coupled with the worry and stress that mounted by the day in their personal lives had left their marriage relatively sexless. Neither one knew how to get past the slump and make time for the intimacies they were acutely aware the other craved.

  
  


  
  


They had been told by the nurses in the ward that if the staff could get the baby out of the 'touch and go' sort of phase he was lingering in now, they'd have no reason to expect him to grow up to be anything less than a perfectly healthy young man. He may have some catching up to do and lag a bit behind other children his age, but it was nothing to be too concerned about. Kids were resilient. They'd had many a preemie come through their doors in dire straits, leaving months later with a clean bill of health only to come back through the same doors as young adults to thank the skilled individuals who'd saved their lives.

  
  


  
  


Hearing this had given both women more hope than they'd felt in what seemed like forever and finally allowed them to look forward to a time when the hospital ceased to suffice as home, when all the strife would be over and they could get back to being themselves. This never happened. Later when they looked back on that time, they'd shake their heads at how simple it had all seemed, how naive they had been.

  
  


  
  


In the beginning, his arrival home had lifted their spirits tenfold and seemed just like any other one. People had come to see him, cooing over him, _ooh_ ing and _ahh_ ing about how tiny he was but impressed by how well he seemed to be doing. It had only become increasingly apparent to the two women that Aidan Rollins probably wasn't going to be what society liked to consider a 'normal' child at about eighteen months of age. When he seemed to be failing to hit the milestones of other children his age they'd taken him to doctor after doctor, each one making them feel like it was all in their heads. Treating them as if being first time parents automatically earned them the title of hypochondriac, worried about everything and trying to over diagnose their child.

  
  


They'd been told countless times that his being born prematurely was cause for his developmental delays, but they'd felt strongly otherwise. He still needed help with the simplest of movements, and was not yet walking or sitting up without the support of his parents while other babies were going through the motions naturally. Women were right when they said mother's intuition rarely failed. They just wanted answers.

  
  


  
  


Having hit a wall with the medical professionals close to home eventually led them to being referred to a specialist out of state to find the answers they'd been so desperately seeking. Dr. Brett Kinsman, a physician specializing in Developmental Pediatrics, was said to be one of the best in his field. The first initial appointment with him was quicker than they'd expected it to be, and they were told they'd need to book a follow up to discuss some test results, so they opted to stay in a hotel until then with Olivia making use of all the vacation time she had piled up. Both women would remember the day of that follow up as one of the slowest of their lives. Time seemed to stand still, and they had wished it would stay that way. But time didn't stop when your heart got broken, especially when a little person with one even more fragile than yours depended on you for everything.

  
  


  
  


"Hello ladies," he had said, voice deep and throaty, eyes exuding warmth and kindness.

  
  


  
  


"Hi," they'd said in unison, Olivia letting go of her wife's hand when she felt it starting to sweat into her own and subtly wiping it across her jeans.

  
  


  
  


Dr. Kinsman had something about him that told the couple he was not like the other medical staff they'd found themselves in contact with since Aidan's arrival, (and there had been many!) though neither one could accurately pinpoint what this characteristic might have been. Perhaps the authority with which he commanded a room, the way he spoke confidently, but not harshly, making his patients feel like they mattered. Whatever it was, they'd felt their vulnerabilities safe with him from the moment they'd met even if he was basically a perfect stranger.

  
  


  
  


"I have some answers and information for you, and I'd like to point out before we start this conversation that you were not crazy for your suspicions with regards to your son's development. You're his parents, and whoever made you feel like your intuitions were misplaced was wrong. Medical professionals should always take parents concerns into consideration, but as you and I both know probably too well, many lack bedside manner. After having looked at him and conducting a series of evaluations and tests, it appears that your son has Spastic Dyplegic Cerebral Palsy."

  
  


  
  


_Spastic Dyplegic Cerebral Palsy._

  
  


  
  


Amanda and Olivia both sat across from this perfect stranger of a man, eyes still kind and understanding like he knew he'd just irreversibly shook their world upside down and felt their mouths dry out, bile beginning to rise in the back of their throats. They couldn't get the words off their tongue, and they doubted the diagnosis would sound any better in layman's terms.

  
  


  
  


As if reading their minds, Dr. Kinsman cleared his throat, launching into an explanation to fill the silence that had encompassed them.

  
  


  
  


"Cerebral Palsy, by general definition, is a neuro-muscular condition causing impaired muscle coordination and sometimes secondary disabilities. It's caused by damage to the brain before or at birth. In the case of your son and his being born so prematurely, it's likely that certain parts of his brain that send signals to other parts of the body were underdeveloped or failed to develop at all."

  
  


  
  


Seeing the stunned expressions that crossed the faces of the two mothers, he paused momentarily to let all that he had just said sink in. Aidan had managed to shuffle himself a good distance from where they had placed him on the floor upon entering the free office space the doctor had led them into, and was now mere feet away from where the man sat. He didn't and couldn't move the same way as other children, often needing the aid of the adults around him, but he had certain ways he had learned to compensate for that. Shuffling (if you could call it that, it was more writhing about until he propelled himself to where he wanted to be) was a new thing he'd started doing.

  
  


  
  


  
  


"Hiiiii," he said laughing, the _h_ being dropped and the greeting coming out as a very enthusiastic " _I_ ". The doctor having dealt with this all the time seemed to know exactly what he meant and thought nothing of his interruption of the conversation, happy to scoop him up and sit him in his lap against his chest.

  
  


  
  


"Well, hi! Are we taking too long for ya? Doctors offices are boring, huh?" Chuckling as he saw the boy become a little too fascinated with objects sitting on a desk adjacent them, he swiveled his chair toward his two mothers once again.

  
  


  
  


"He's really cute," he chuckled again, smiling widely.

  
  


  
  


"Thank you," Amanda piped up, pride evident in her eyes and the way she looked at him.

  
  


  
  


"Do you have kids?" It was none of her business, but Olivia sensed there was a lot more to the conversation they were having, and she wanted a distraction. With what they'd just been told about their own child, it seemed like a reasonable and innocent enough question.

  
  


  
  


"Two boys and three girls. None of them are this young anymore, though." He pointed gently toward the boy still in his lap indicating he was referring to his tender age. "I kinda miss those days."

  
  


  
  


The brunette nodded. She knew she would one day, sooner rather than later, understand what he meant.

  
  


  
  


"So.." Amanda spoke up slowly, unsure of whether she wanted to tread back into the waters of the heavy conversation they'd abandoned. "You've explained what Cerebral Palsy is, but I'm a little confused as to the meaning of the Spastic Dyplegic part."

  
  


  
  


"Oh, I'm sorry!" He suddenly felt silly for not having explained it sooner.

  
  


"There are many forms of Cerebral Palsy, and every form has its specific markers its recognized or diagnosed by. Sometimes, it may seem like a child has characteristics of more than one form. Even if two children have the same type, their two cases are rarely identical in the way it affects their bodies. What makes CP particularly tricky to diagnose is that it may not show up right away and there is no one test to rule it out, which is why it's taken you this long to get answers and why I did a combination of evaluations and testing before diagnosing your son. Spastic Dyplegia, in simple terms basically means that it more prominently affects the lower extremities of the body rather than the upper half."

  
  


  
  


"So what exactly does this mean for him? What should we expect?"

  
  


  
  


"It's without question that he will have to use a wheelchair for the remainder of his life, but depending on how his development progresses, he may also be able to use a walker for shorter excursions."

  
  


  
  


They both tried to keep a smile pasted on their lips as they listened to the doctor continue to explain things they never expected to hear. He reinforced again that there were many types of the disability, and the symptoms within a person could range from non existent to extremely severe. At Aidan's young age, though they now had a specific diagnosis, it was almost impossible to know yet exactly how he would be affected. (Though the fact that he was babbling and beginning to clearly form words was a good indication that he'd be able to speak coherently, with cognitive abilities fully intact. Some weren't so lucky)

  
  


  
  


They were told that though it was not a progressive illness and many people who lived with it from birth went on to live generally productive lives, there were many secondary things that could show themselves as he aged they needed to be aware of such as dexterity problems, decreased fine motor skills, and vision problems. It would also be important for them to ensure he participate in therapy (both physical and occupational) throughout his childhood.

  
  


  
  


Depending on his circumstances as he got older he may benefit from the use of custom fitted AFO's (ankle-foot orthosis) and there was a remote chance he could need surgeries later in life depending on the growth and development of his bones. (Some children with CP adapted themselves in how they got around when not using a chair as Aidan was now showing signs of doing, and sitting in certain positions or bending certain ways the body was not typically used to could sometimes result in bones popping out of place, such as a hip bone popping out of socket.)

  
  


  
  


"I know this is a lot to take in, and there will undoubtedly be more that crops up as he reaches certain ages. With five children of my own who I am fortunately able to say were born completely healthy and rarely ever even became sick, I can't even possibly say that I understand your feelings from the standpoint of a suffering parent. I can however, say I understand it from the standpoint of a doctor who's diagnosed this and worse, time and time again. I'm here whenever you may need anything or have questions. Feel free to reach me anytime you're so inclined, and I'll make sure to refer you to some of my contacts who are the best therapists in the business. We'll be in touch."

  
  


  
  


Ruffling Aidan's hair, he transferred him from his lap to Amanda's. Both ladies took it upon themselves to stand, feeling like there was nothing more he could possibly tell them. As they shook hands and the middle aged man walked out of the room, they thought that if they had to be burdened with this news, it was better to have heard it from someone who cared.

  
  


  
  


The drive across state lines was a quiet one that they spent the majority of being lost in themselves but at the same time holding hands, as if the dark cloud over them was tearing them apart while still bringing them together. Aidan was oblivious to their feelings, sleeping soundly in the back seat.

  
  


  
  


"I love you, you know that, right? No matter what happens from here, if you forget everything else please just remember that."

  
  


  
  


The brunette looked over at her wife, eyes watery and fatigue having crept up on her from the events of the previous days and squeezed her hand harder.

  
  


  
  


"Aw, babe I know that. I'll always know that. I love you, too."

  
  


  
  


It was funny how things that could seem so sincere in one particular moment in time could lack that same sincerity just a short time later. There was no question as to whether the two women loved each other. But as they looked back on that time in their lives, they'd realize that love was more work than either had anticipated and the strength of that love and their very family unit, would be tested time and time again.

  
  


  
  


Upon returning home, they'd taken long, hot showers as if to wash away the residual effects the events out of state had had on them and come to a unanimous decision to withhold the information of Aidan's diagnosis from everyone but a select few people until they had time to process it themselves.

  
  


  
  


One person who found herself exempt from the category of 'everyone' and lumped into the latter of 'select few' was Alex Shaffer (formerly Alex Cabot, previously ADA to the Special Victims Unit. She'd married her husband years ago, and decided to leave the law behind to focus on the family she herself now had, something none of her friends ever suspected she would do.)

  
  


  
  


Some time after the news of the diagnosis, they'd invited her over for coffee to break the news.

  
  


  
  


"I'm so sorry, you guys. Are you okay?" The concern in her voice was genuine, and there was no trace of pity. (If it had been anyone else, the ladies feared there may have been, and pity was something neither of them liked or appreciated.)

  
  


  
  


"We're doing as well as can be expected, under the circumstances, I guess." Olivia set her empty mug onto the wooden table, not caring to get up and abandon the conversation just to put it in the sink right away.

  
  


  
  


"Is there anything you need?"

  
  


  
  


"Not that we can think of, no." In the moment, that answer was the truth.

  
  


  
  


"Well you know how to reach me if that changes. Miles and I are both here for you."

  
  


  
  


When Alex said that, it wasn't at all like when other people said it. She and her husband were about the only two people who really were there for them no matter the hour and would drop everything. They were so close that the families were godparents to each others' children.

  
  


  
  


"We know that, thank you."

  
  


  
  


"I just get so sick of people staring, you know? 'what's wrong with your baby?'" Amanda spoke up suddenly, the first time she'd done so during the entire exchange aside from swapping pleasantries when Alex had come in.

  
  


  
  


In the time before telling anyone of their son's afflictions, there had been many instances they'd gone out and people had stared or asked questions. You couldn't tell he was different just by first glance, (not yet, anyway.) but when other parents saw him out in the park being supported by his parents while trying to walk or stand and seeing how he struggled to move, they felt the need to vocalize their curiosity and some did it rudely. If it had been parents of other disabled children, it wouldn't have stung so badly. With people who understood, it was a swapping of experiences rather than a round of sickening rapid-fire questioning.

  
  


  
  


"My child is perfect the way he is no matter what he'll have to face. I get so angry at full grown adults who don't see that and can't shut their mouths."

  
  


  
  


 

  
  


"Honey, as a mother I completely understand what you're saying, but have you talked to somebody? It may help with the anger."

  
  


  
  


"Y'mean, like a shrink?" Alex knew the disdain she felt towards people trying to get inside her head and psychoanalyze her, so the words were laced with more than a hint of disgust.

  
  


  
  


"I know how you feel about them, but really it may help. Olivia and the rest of your friends and I can only understand to a certain point, and we're not very objective perspectives."

  
  


  
  


"Shit like that costs money, Alex. Money we don't ever seem to have. Anything we do have goes to bills or is put away for the things Aidan is gonna need. The medical bills piled up quick, and his future and the uncertainty it holds is coming even quicker."

  
  


  
  


"Who said you had to pay for it?"

  
  


  
  


"No. No, you are not buying us out of all of our problems, Aidan's godparent or not. I don't want you doing everything for us. I'm already tired of our world being shaken up, and it's just the beginning, but I'm not just gonna take the free and easy road. That's not something I want to teach my son to do."

  
  


  
  


It was no secret that Alex had done well for herself and her family also had money, but no matter how many times she'd offered it, though it would have been an easy out neither woman ever accepted it.

  
  


  
  


"Nobody said I would do everything, and what you teach your son is entirely up to you. Life roughs us all up; no matter what you thought, what you wanted, what you wished, it all changes. When change comes we do what we have to. I know you're proud, but pride doesn't always pay. We all need a little help sometime. Please, 'Manda, for the love of God. Let me help you. If not for your own well being, for the sake of Aidan having his mother emotionally available and healthy. You can pick whatever shrink you want, just let me take care of it. It could really help."

  
  


  
  


Fighting against her mind's lack of desire to give in, she knew she needed to listen to what her heart was telling her and that Alex was right. Aidan needed her, and would probably continue to need her much more than other kids. She couldn't be what he needed if she selfishly suppressed her emotions because of her own pride and aversion to outside help. She thought at that moment in time that taking the step of going to therapy just may bring her some balance and semblance of peace.

  
  


The future was uncertain, but in that moment she'd hoped more than anything else that she'd be able to raise a well adjusted happy kid who was as independent as his circumstances would allow; that people would come to know him not just as 'the boy with problems' or 'the kid who's different', but as an individual, beautifully flawed human being. All she really wished for, was that they just call him Aidan.

 

 


	4. The Company You Keep

**Call Him Aidan**

**Chapter Four:**

**The Company You Keep**

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


" _The only thing that really stops us from doing what we're destined to do is a bad attitude."-Krysta_

  
  


  
  


Amanda Rollins sat perched on the couch in plaid pyjamas, plush blue housecoat wrapped around her staring blankly at an episode of _Forensic Files_ on HLN at three o'clock in the morning on what would have been a work day had she not opted to become a stay at home parent. Before their son's diagnosis, staying home had been a choice. Due to things panning out differently than the two women anticipated, and now that they had a name to put to their child's afflictions, staying home had become more of an obligation.

  
  


As much as she loved her son and all the time she spent with him, there were times she missed the job. When she'd first started working as part of a team of detectives who worked for the Special Victims Unit, she'd wondered how anybody could keep from getting hard and cynical after years of seeing the same types of horrendous things. Now that her son was five and growing and changing faster than ever, (as were his needs) the job she'd once held seemed simple by comparison.

  
  


  
  


"Hey."

  
  


  
  


The voice of her wife startled her out of a trance even though it was soft and thick with sleep from just having woken up.

  
  


  
  


"Oh, hey. I'm sorry if I woke you. I tried not to turn the TV up too loud because I knew you and Aidan were still sleepin'."

  
  


  
  


"It's not too loud. You didn't wake me, my phone did. I was asked to go into work a little earlier today so set my alarm for three."

  
  


  
  


"Oh, okay. Did you check in on Aidan?"

  
  


"Yup, sleeping like a rock."

  
  


"Good."

  
  


  
  


Olivia flicked on the kitchen lights and Amanda squinted until her eyes adjusted adequately to their brightness.

  
  


  
  


"Sorry," she said apologetically. "You want coffee?"

  
  


  
  


"Please."

  
  


_I have so many things to do today, the better question would be if I'd be able to function normally without it,_ she thought ruefully.

  
  


  
  


"Black?"

  
  


  
  


"You bet."

  
  


  
  


The older woman became focused on the task of setting out all pans and utensils she would need to make breakfast for the two of them, and smiled to herself. It had been a good while since she'd had any time to treat either of them to anything and she vowed then to attempt to make a point of waking up early even when it wasn't necessary in order to dote on her wife, creating little simple moments between them as she'd so frequently done in the beginning of their relationship.

  
  


  
  


"You want your eggs scrambled or poached?"

  
  


  
  


"Oh, you don't have to make anything for me, I'm not that hungry. I don't want to make you late."

  
  


  
  


"I set my alarm so that I would have enough time to make you breakfast and help you with anything pertaining to Aidan as well as do what I needed to do to get ready before heading out this morning. So I ask you again, scrambled or poached?"

  
  


  
  


"Scrambled. Do we have any bacon?"

  
  


  
  


"There's the Amanda we all know and love." Chuckling, she teased the eggs that had been cooking in a pan on the stove with the end of the spatula and turned to the freezer, sticking her head inside in search of a package of bacon.

  
  


  
  


"Found some. You want toast too?"

  
  


  
  


"Sure, what the hell."

  
  


  
  


"White or brown?"

  
  


  
  


"Brown."

  
  


  
  


Taking the finished pan of eggs off one of the front burners, she set it on the counter atop a pot holder before moving the bacon over to replace it. Looking in her wife's direction, she noted that she was being watched with what could only be described as adoration, a far away sort of look in the other woman's eyes.

  
  


  
  


"What?" she asked, genuinely confused as to how making eggs and bacon made her Wife of the Year.

  
  


  
  


"Nothin', I just miss havin' you around in the mornings, that's all."

  
  


  
  


"Aw, I miss being here. I'm sorry I'm not around as much as I could be." Plating both of their breakfasts and pouring two cups of coffee, she left the dirty pans to lie soaking in the sink before walking into the living room to sit next to the blonde.

  
  


  
  


"You're doing what you have to in order to make your contribution to our family, and we love you for that." She accepted the steaming plate gratefully and dug in.

  
  


  
  


"I still can't help but feel like I'm missing out on a lot. I knew once we got this diagnosis we'd both have to make a lot of sacrifices, but I don't think I understood just how hard it would be."

  
  


  
  


"Neither one of us did, love. One of us needs to work and I'm grateful to have a wife by my side that works so hard for all of us. Aidan knows how much you love him, and he's really proud of the things you do."

  
  


  
  


Though they had many times where they both pretended things were okay when they weren't and often got entirely too "in their feelings", what Amanda said rang incredibly true. Neither of them could have anticipated the things that Aidan would have to go through before he'd arrived, but no matter what happened the blonde tried to remember to be grateful for the fact that she had a partner willing to stand by her side through it all. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to. Most everything Olivia did, she did with her heart and Amanda considered herself lucky that she hadn't chosen a life mate for herself who would just up and leave at the first sign of struggle. Many women she knew were not in a position to be able to say that.

  
  


  
  


"I love you both. More than anything." Leaning in to peck her lips, the older woman lingered there a little longer than usual as if to drive home her point.

  
  


  
  


"We know." Standing up, she collected their dishes and took them to the sink, rinsing them and setting them in with the soaking pans Olivia had previously left.

  
  


  
  


"Should I wake Aidan?" the brunette asked, raising her voice a notch to be heard over the sounds of running water dripping from the faucet as the blonde took it upon herself to scrub out the dirty pans. "I know it takes a while for you to get him bathed and ready for school when you're on your own. If I wake him now I could help you before I have to leave."

  
  


  
  


"Thanks honey, but I have to take him to therapy today, so we won't be in as much of a time crunch. I'll finish these dishes, you shower and get ready for work."

  
  


  
  


Olivia smiled devilishly. "If I had more time I'd have you come with me," she said, winking suggestively.

  
  


  
  


"Oh, I'll bet you would, detective. I'll bet you would." The younger woman shook her head, her lilted southern twang showing itself as she spoke. "We'll have to make the time for me to take you up on that suggestion."

  
  


  
  


"Yes, yes we will, Mrs. Rollins." Though they hadn't had any form of intimate or sexual relations in what seemed like forever and had become bad at setting aside that time for one another, in their heart of hearts both of them longed to get that aspect of the relationship back to where it should have been and kept promising themselves that eventually, they would. "Let me know how Aidan's appointment goes today, yeah?"

  
  


  
  


"I will, if it doesn't run too late I'm supposed to be going over to Alex and Miles' place for dinner. I'll text you and let you know what happened and what my plans are."

  
  


  
  


"All right. We've been busting our asses to try to catch this sick motherfucker of a perp who seems to keep slipping through our fingers every time we almost have him, so I'll probably be pulling overtime again. Check in with me later and I'll let you know what's going on from my end, too."

  
  


  
  


"Sounds good. Hurry up and shower or you're gonna be late."

  
  


  
  


"Yes, boss." Laughing, Olivia made her way to the bathroom, Amanda heading in the direction of their bedroom to dress, each of them preparing to face the potentially lurking demons of the day without the other by their side.

**##**

  
  


  
  


"Does this mean I getta see Krysta today?" the blonde boy asked excitedly from the backseat of the car as his mother drove, keeping her gaze entirely focused on the road ahead of her.

  
  


  
  


"You do get to see Krysta today."

  
  


  
  


"Yessss! I _love_ Krysta. She gives the best hugs ever!"

  
  


  
  


Amanda glanced at his reflection in the mirror above her head and chuckled. "I thought Mommy gave the best hugs ever?"

  
  


  
  


"She does, it goes Mommy _then_ Krysta."

  
  


  
  


"Oh, right. What about me?"

  
  


  
  


"You hate hugs."

  
  


  
  


"Usually. But I like them from you and Mommy."

  
  


  
  


"Well, then it goes Mommy, Krysta, then you."

  
  


  
  


"Oh, I see how it is."

  
  


  
  


The mock hurt expression on her face elicited a laugh from both of them.

**##**

  
  


  
  


Krysta Holden had worked as a physical therapist at the Morgan Stanley Children's Hospital of New York, New York for over 15 years. Now approaching the age of forty-seven, she still loved it just as much as the day she'd started. Never having found the right person with whom to start a family of her own, the work that she did and the amount of reward she'd gained from it compensated for that. For a time, it had genuinely upset her that she had apparently been one of those people who was destined to be alone.

  
  


It didn't seem fair to her with how much she loved people, how much she desperately had wanted a child, for her to be in that category. Eventually though, she'd come to accept it because she had no other choice. She taught her clients in an age appropriate way that you could either get up and fight or lie down and wallow in self pity for the rest of your life, and she wouldn't be much of an example if she didn't try to follow that herself. Once she'd accepted that she was past her prime with no man and children and love probably just weren't in the cards, she'd thrown herself wholly into her work more than ever, and been content to come home to the love of her long time fur-babies, Siamese cats Jada, Jester and Jinx.

 

  
  


Wolfing down a sandwich in one of the therapy rooms of the hospital she used so frequently it had come to feel like her very own, she wondered how her 1 o'clock client was doing since the last time she'd seen him. All of her clients affected her in some way, each of them having a different story and reason for seeking her expertise. Aidan Rollins, however, had tugged at her heartstrings the first time she'd met him. Even if she'd never say so, to her he was a favourite.

 

  
  


He'd talked her ear off for almost an hour and a half straight that first time, and she'd been impressed at how well he'd taken instruction and completed tasks asked of him at the same time. Not much had changed since that first visit; he still talked her ear off, and she still enjoyed every minute of it. Just as she'd pulled herself from her thoughts of Aidan long enough to finish her sandwich and tie up her loose auburn curls with an elastic from around her wrist, the co-worker she worked the closest with tapped gently on the door to tell her that her 1 o'clock was early.

 

  
  


"Thanks, Roxy. I can take him now."

  
  


  
  


"Yer welcome, love. I'll send 'em in."

**##**

  
  


  
  


"I hate these ones," he said with distaste almost halfway through the visit, laying flat on his back on an exercise mat waiting for the older woman to get down on her knees and assist him with his hamstring stretches.

  
  


  
  


"I know you do lovey, but we gotta do 'em. Has Mama been doing them with you at home?"

  
  


  
  


"Every day. Those and all the other things you've said up to this point," the blonde said politely, watching from her spot across the room on a chair that was entirely too small for even her petite frame.

  
  


  
  


"Good. Like always when we do these, you'll feel a bit of a pull, but let me know if it becomes too much for you, because we don't want it to be painful."

  
  


  
  


"Okay," the boy assured as Krysta took his right leg, positioning it at a ninety degree angle then slowly proceeding to press it up into the direction of his armpit.

  
  


  
  


"Breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth and make sure you keep relaxed, remember?"

  
  


  
  


"I know." He did what she reminded him.

  
  


  
  


After several repetitions of this on both legs, with him inhaling and exhaling as instructed and seeming relatively calmed, Krysta opted to move on to the task she knew he most hated.

  
  


  
  


"We're gonna do the one where we go from a bent position straight up towards the ceiling with the strap around your foot."

  
  


  
  


"That's the one I hate the most," he said, displeasure evident.

  
  


  
  


"I know. Most people don't like that one very much. Even I don't. But if you do a few _really_ good ones, we don't have to do that many."

  
  


  
  


"You promise?"

  
  


  
  


"Pinky swear." she promised, offering him her pinky finger to link up with his before retrieving the rubber strap they would need and proceeding to kneel down next to him on the mat once again.

  
  


  
  


"I'm gonna put the loop around your foot and then hand you the longer part of the strap. Do you remember what I told you to do with it when I guide your leg up straight?"

  
  


  
  


"Pull towards me!"

  
  


  
  


"Right." Wrapping the loophole of the green, thick rubber strap around his foot, she guided his leg into the starting position of a ninety degree angle as she had done previously, handed him the longer ends and watched him pull tight toward his chest as she used a hand to guide his leg into a straightened position going upwards toward the ceiling.

  
  


  
  


"Hold the strap like that as long as you can, okay? I'm gonna see if you can hold it til I count to five."

  
  


  
  


"Kay," he said, still holding his grip.

  
  


  
  


"One...two...three...four...five... and let go."

Letting go of the strap, he exhaled loudly.

  
  


  
  


"Can you do that a couple more times for me and then we'll do the other side?"

  
  


  
  


"Yup!"

**##**

  
  


  
  


"Try not to lean back into me, or forward into Mama for as long as you can okay?" Krysta told the five year old, who was now positioned in the middle of a giant purple exercise ball.

  
  


  
  


"Okay!"

  
  


  
  


"Should we count to see how long you can do it?"

  
  


  
  


"Yeah, count Mama!"

  
  


  
  


"Y'want me to count?" the blonde in front of him questioned, "'Kay, but you gotta do it with me, yeah?"

  
  


  
  


"Okay."

  
  


  
  


"One...two...three...four...five...six...seven..eight..." they counted together before he gently fell backwards into Krysta, unable to hold his posture straight any longer.

  
  


  
  


"Eight seconds. Good job, love. Longer than last time."

  
  


  
  


"Can we do the bars again?" He asked Krysta as his mother put his socks and shoes back on his feet, pointing to a set of parallel bars at the other side of the room.

  
  


  
  


She glanced quickly up at the clock on the wall. "Sure, we have a bit of time before you go. Once Mama gets your shoes tied up we'll do it."

  
  


 

"Yay!"

**##**

  
  


  
  


Positioning him loosely back in his chair, socks and shoes now on his feet, Krysta wheeled him to the end of the set of bars and put on his breaks. Guiding him into a standing position, he grabbed the silver bars on either side of him to support himself. Amanda took her usual position on the opposite end, crouching down so as to be at his level.

  
  


  
  


"C'mon, baby. Let me see if you can walk all the way to me this time."

  
  


  
  


He started off slowly, with the smallest of steps, almost as if he were afraid to fail with the two women so intently watching him. Gradually, as he looked ahead and behind him at their kind eyes and encouraging smiles, his steps became bigger, confidence increasing. It was only when he'd gotten more than halfway to the end they noticed he started to get tired.

  
  


  
  


"You can do it, you're almost there." Taking a few more steps, Amanda reached out and caught him in her grasp when he got close enough.

  
  


  
  


Krysta wheeled his chair over to the other end of the bars where Amanda was still crouched so she wouldn't have to carry him all the way back. The blonde positioned him inside it, buckling him up and turned to Krysta.

  
  


  
  


"Thank you again for another good visit. He looks forward to seeing you."

  
  


  
  


"Oh, no problem. He's a doll. He did really well today. I noticed improvements from last time. I did notice though that when he was walking down the parallel bars, his foot and leg on the left side turns inward a little. Have either of you noticed that while helping him walk at home?"

  
  


  
  


"Olivia noticed it first and brought it to my attention. He says it doesn't hurt, so I wasn't sure whether to be concerned about it or not. I was gonna mention it but it slipped my mind until you just now said something."

"Did Brett Kinsman talk to you at all about AFO's when explaining his diagnosis to you?"

  
  


  
  


"He mentioned that as he got older they may be of benefit, yes. That's about it."

  
  


  
  


"I think he would benefit from them at this point. They'd give him support and keep his feet straight. He may not like wearing them, and it may be difficult to find shoes and pants that fit over the them, but he's young enough that they may correct the turn of his left side and he may not have to wear them by the time he reaches his early to late teens. I'll call Brett in to be here at one of our next appointments. It may not be the very next one since he works out of state, but if we get approval from him that he needs them you'll need to bring him back here for his feet to be cast so they can get a mould that'll properly fit."

  
  


  
  


"All right, I will do. Give me a call about when you want me to come in."

  
  


  
  


"You bet. He's doing really well. You should be really proud of him. The only thing that really stops us from doing what we're destined to do is a bad attitude. I've seen many kids come through here that don't have the right attitude and your son is definitely not one of those. The way you think makes all the difference, so you're obviously teaching him well."

  
  


  
  


"Thanks Krysta."

As Aidan hugged the woman goodbye, Amanda left the hospital with spirits lifted by the kindness of someone she hardly knew, smile pasted on her lips.

**##**

  
  


  
  


"Cheyenne, don't kick the table, please. I'm not gonna tell you again."

  
  


  
  


"Oooh, Cheyenne's in trouble!"

  
  


  
  


"Layla! Keep that up and you'll be in trouble too."

  
  


  
  


"Fine!" The dark haired girl folded her arms momentarily and put her tongue, that had previously been stuck out in the direction of her sister, back into her mouth.

  
  


  
  


"I'm sorry," Alex said to the other blonde, looking at her apologetically before turning her gaze in the direction of her children who were painting at the kitchen table, Aidan watching them. "They've both been testing my limits lately."

  
  


  
  


"Hey, no problem. I'm a Mama too, I get it." She looked up from her phone and the message she'd just finished sending, smiling in understanding.

  
  


  
  


_At Alex's for dinner. Aidan's therapy went well. Need to discuss something when you get home. Xo -A._

  
  


  
  


"You're okay with pizza for dinner? I've been promising the kids all week."

  
  


  
  


"Yeah, of course."

  
  


  
  


"Mommy, can we go show Aidan the horses?" Layla asked excitedly, having gotten up from her position at the table, paint splattered on her hands.

  
  


  
  


"Yes, we can. But clean up first, you can't go touching the horses with your hands like that."

  
  


  
  


After leaving behind her job as an Assistant District Attorney and marrying Miles Shaffer, they'd opted to move to a big property away from the hustle and bustle of the city, her children having become a part of the world of competitive riding.

  
  


  
  


After washing the girls' hands, the two ladies gathered them and Aidan together making their way out to the barn, Amanda parking her son's chair, picking him up and carrying him inside.

  
  


  
  


"This one's Mystique, that one's Magic and the one on the end is Maddox."

  
  


  
  


"Mystique is pretty," Aidan said, reaching out his hand and Amanda moving closer so he could pet her nose.

  
  


"I think she likes you," Alex smiled as the horse made a sound of approval upon feeling the contact.

  
  


  
  


"She's won lots of competitions," Cheyenne boasted proudly. "I'll show you my ribbons when we go back inside."

  
  


  
  


Amanda felt her phone vibrating in her pocket and looked at Alex. "Could you take him?"

  
  


  
  


"Absolutely."

  
  


  
  


She handed him over, walking out of the barn to get better reception and pulled out her phone.

  
  


  
  


_"Glad to hear it went well. I'm done earlier than I thought I'd be so I can join you guys at Al's for dinner in a little bit and then we can talk about whatever it is you needed to when we go back home."_

  
  


  
  


_"Sounds good. I'll just make sure Alex knows so we order enough pizza."_

  
  


  
  


Heading back to the barn, she stuck her phone back in her pocket as she walked. "Everything okay?" Alex questioned.

  
  


  
  


"Yeah, all good. Is it okay if Liv joins us for dinner? She's done early at work."

  
  


  
  


"Of course, you know you don't have to ask."

  
  


  
  


"Mama, I gave Maddox apple pieces!"

  
  


  
  


"You did? Did he eat them?"

  
  


"Yeah!"

  
  


The blonde looked at Alex with a raised eyebrow.

  
  


  
  


"I stuck some in my coat pocket while you helped Layla and Cheyenne wash their hands," she laughed.

  
  


  
  


"Ah," she nodded. "Thanks for letting him come out here. He loves animals."

  
  


  
  


"No problem. You know, I know someone who runs a therapeutic riding stable for people with disabilities. The horses are really well trained and super tame and gentle. If that's something you think he could benefit from doing, I could give you his number. It'd give Aidan a chance to be around horses while getting to be around other kids and feeling normal."

  
  


  
  


"That sounds amazing. I'll definitely talk it over with Olivia and at least give him a call. Thank you."

  
  


  
  


"You're very welcome. Anything I can do to help," she winked, telling the girls that they needed to go back inside and order dinner because Auntie Liv would be there soon.

  
  


  
  


Watching the girls skip energetically ahead of their mother in the direction of the house from her vantage point next to the barn having stayed back to put her son back into his wheelchair, Amanda thought about all the ups and downs that had happened since the gift they'd been given had made his appearance. No matter what his difficulties were, he was one. She wouldn't let anyone say otherwise. There would be many more obstacles, but both of the Rollins' women were seeing time and time again that life had a lot less to do with the hardships, and more to do with the company you keep.

 

 


	5. Joys, Regrets, and Little Pleasures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is as far as I'd gotten with pre written chapters, but half of six and pieces of some beyond are sitting on my thumb drives and laptop being worked through and I've recently come back to them so keep your eyes peeled ;)

**Call Him Aidan**

 

**Chapter Five:**

 

**Joys, Regrets, And Little Pleasures**

 

“ _Animals are often very intuitive. Sometimes, I truly do believe they know us and our surroundings better than we do. If you're lucky enough to meet even one human being in your lifetime with these same qualities, you should never take them for granted. Unlike that of animals, the undying loyalty of another person is not easily regained after they've been given reasons to revoke it.”-Grayson_

 

 

 

Grayson Paul sat inside his Ford F150, stationary in the driveway for much longer than was necessary after returning home from one of his many jobs. Nobody would have ever considered him to be a sensitive or emotional man, but then, he himself would tell you that few people truly knew him. Like most everyone else in the world, he had secrets; skeletons in his closet that nobody knew about. One of those skeletons had deepened his love for animals, as well as led him to becoming owner and operator of Ride Again Stables.

 

 

With the fiftieth year of his life approaching much more quickly than he would have liked it to, he spent much of his free time reflecting and reminiscing; thinking about all the things that had come to pass he'd had no control over, all the things he'd done, as well as the things he hadn't. As much as he hated some of what had happened, he'd recently come to realize that he'd lived and enjoyed his life just as much as he'd loathed and regretted it.

 

 

He loved the work that he did every day at the stables. Whatever he lacked monetarily was made up in the pride that he felt helping others. Giving second chances to animals as well as people. They rehabilitated and retrained abandoned or neglected horses, in time ensuring their suitability for the riding program and the clients who attended it. Seeing people who came from all walks of life, each with their own story of how they'd been broken- car wrecks, work injuries, freak accidents, physical disabilities from the first moments they'd been alive, and giving them an opportunity to get even a piece of their life back, seeing joy in faces that quite possibly hadn't shown any in the span of a lifetime, made all of his own pain subside to a dull ache for a few hours of every day and took away the monotony of being alone. 

 

 

There had been a time he'd never have been able to imagine himself exactly where he was; where he hadn't needed medication to lull himself into deep dreamless sleep, hadn't held three jobs to fill his days and separate him from the ache that continually resided in his chest, where he hadn't known the experience of any form of ache at all. Rarely did he speak of that time, but he could recall it as quickly as he'd tried to bury it. Compartmentalizing things had become a way of life for him, and he often did this with the happy memories that hurt too much to recall. They found a way to come up, though, when he least wanted them to. Sitting in his truck in the driveway losing track of the moments ticking by, he remembered the most precious thing in his life and how much it hurt being forced to let go.

 

**##**

 

 

 

“I hate these places. It's all the worst circumstances you could imagine just staring you right in the face.” Grayson Paul sat by the bedside, its sheets pristine and white, ruffled only in places which were covered by the body of its inhabitant. 

 

 

“I'm sure most people feel that way. D'you think I like seeing Mom like this? A shell of the person I remember, dangling halfway between life and death? The last thing I said to her was that I couldn't stand her. Do you think I don't regret that?”

 

 

Michaela Paul had stood up from her seat at the opposing side of the cot, tears streaming down her face, having no shame in snapping at her father. She loved him, no question, but there were times he could be the most self absorbed person she'd ever known. In times of grieving or difficulty especially, he had a way of making everyone else around him feel like their pain was minute in comparison to his own.

 

 

“I never said you didn't. I have things that have come out of my mouth that I regret saying too, Michaela, but you haven't been around. You left, without looking back. Without so much as a phone call. You hardly knew who your mother was, and here you come back to watch her die like you were her best friend all along!”

 

 

“Is there a problem here, sir? I can hear you all the way down the hall. If you don't lower your voice, I'm gonna have to ask you to step outside.” The nurse stood in the doorjamb, blue scrubs popping against her dark skin, her brow furled into a scowl and her thick Jamaican accent depicting annoyance.

 

 

“No, no problem here, just a bit of a heated discussion. My apologies.”

 

 

“Good. Don't let it happen again.”

 

Following her exit, the two sat down in their designated seats opposite each other once again and looked at the woman in the middle of the hospital bed. Someone they both loved in entirely different ways, for entirely different reasons. Someone they knew was slowly slipping away from them.

 

 

“I know I left, and I will always regret the rift that I created between us. My reasons for doing it seem small and stupid now. I don't have enough words to explain it away. There's no valid excuse. But you have to know you weren't perfect either. You've said and done things that have hurt me. I'm not trying to act like Mom and I were best friends. We were far from it. I didn't come here to try to be anything. She's my mother and I'm her daughter and I wish this hadn't happened, but when it comes to it I wanted my opportunity to say goodbye.”

 

 

Michaela Paul was given the opportunity she had spoken of just a week later when the decision was made to pull the plug on her mother's life support. Though she and her father had their undeniable differences, they'd come to a unanimous decision after extensive discussions with Bess' attending physician, who explained that at that stage, there was little to no hope of her regaining normal brain activity and making even a decent recovery. In the months since she'd been declared unresponsive she had seemed to stay as such. It had come down to her loved ones having to continue holding on to their false hope in silence, suffering in the process, or letting all parties involved have some sense of peace.

 

 

“She's gone,” the doctor declared, without emotion. “I'm sorry for your loss. We did everything we could.”

 

 

Car wrecks happened all the time, and when they did, the first responders who tended to the aftermath pulled out all the stops to work a miracle. People were saved every single day because of round the clock silent heroes. Those who were rarely thanked but put all the blood sweat and tears into their work that they could, not expecting anything in return. Due to their selflessness, some everyday people who'd been victim of unfortunate circumstances got lucky. Bess Paul however, hadn't been one of them, and it had irreversibly changed the world Grayson and Michaela Paul were still forced to live in.

 

 

**##**

 

 

 

The shrill ring of the mobile phone clipped onto the pocket of his shirt caused him to startle suddenly, pulling him from the realm of the past where he'd allowed his mind to travel. Forgetting he was still inside his truck, he fumbled momentarily, regaining his full state of awareness only after bumping his head against the driver's side window.

 

 

“Fuck!” Grabbing the phone, he flipped it open and jabbed his finger emphatically against the green 'call' button.

 

 

“Grayson Paul.”

 

 

“Uh, yeah hi.. I'm sorry if I'm disturbin' you, but.. my name is Amanda Rollins. I'm callin' about your riding program. Alex Shaffer gave me your number?”

 

 

“Oh, yeah. She said I should expect a call from you. You're not disturbing me at all,” he said, partially lying but not wanting to be rude, knowing that if he got her off the line he'd just go back to reliving the past anyway. “How can I help?”

 

 

“Well, my son is five. He was born with Cerebral Palsy and he loves animals, especially Alex's horses. She said your program is for people with disabilities? My wife and I were hoping we could sign him up, have him meet some other kids..y'know.. give him a chance to feel normal.”

 

 

“Sure. We focus on anyone with intensive injury or disability. There's different aspects to the program depending under which category the person falls. For the ones who've been injured in accidents and things, we focus a lot on rehabilitation and helping them get movement back where they'd maybe lost it. For others who were born with disabilities it's about strengthening muscles they already use and improving the movement they already have. All of our horses are rehabilitated as well and are extensively trained and extremely gentle. We have trained professionals and special equipment on site to help the clients on and off the horses.”

 

 

“That sounds amazing. What are your hours like? My wife is a detective for Manhattan SVU, so works really odd hours but I stay home so I could bring him pretty much any time as long as it doesn't conflict with any of his appointments.”

 

 

“We're open five days a week one to six, and every other weekend three to seven. If you want, I could schedule a day for you to come look around when no one else is here. We could talk about our different enrollment packages and if you like it, go from there.”

 

 

“That sounds great.”

 

 

“Great, I'll look over my schedule and give you a call back.”

 

 

“Perfect, thank you.”

 

“You're welcome, bye.”

 

 

Saving the incoming number to his phone contacts, he flipped it shut and got out of his truck, trying to leave the fog of the past behind him.

 

 

**##**

“You really should find yourself a man, you know.” Krysta Holden's niece smiled, pushing auburn locks that were freakishly identical to those of her aunt from her forehead, locking gazes with the woman opposite her.

 

“Lyndsy, don't start. I'm fine without a man and you know it.” They'd had this conversation many times over the course of Lyndsy's life, and it always went the exact same way every time.

 

 

“Come on, Aunt Krysta, seriously? You may be fine, but that doesn't mean you like being alone, I know you don't. You deserve to be happy.”

 

 

“I am happy,” she said, almost too convincingly, her voice raising a few octaves as she refilled both their glasses of wine from the contents of the bottle on the table between them. “I have my job, and I'm not alone. I've got Jada, Jester and Jinx to come home to every day.”

 

 

“You're telling me you really wanna be married to your job until you can't possibly work anymore, then in your old age be known as some crazy lady who talks to her hoard of cats all day long?”

 

 

As exasperating as Lyndsy could be with her tendency to get on bandwagons and her one track mind, Krysta couldn't help but laugh at the pessimistic predictions she held for her life and the conviction with which she pushed the subject. “No, I'm telling you that I accepted long ago that love and a family weren't in the cards for me, and found a second love in the work that I do.”

 

 

“I don't see how you can be so happy with just one thing.”

 

 

“Ah, because you don't see the pay off I get when I help people get back a piece of themselves. Watching people regain independence or find long buried confidence is the best thing in the world. If you haven't witnessed it, it's a hard thing to understand. We live completely different lives, my love. Doesn't make either one of them better than the other.”

 

 

It was true. Lyndsy Whitfield lived a life polar opposite to that of her aunt. She was young, vibrant, and what could only be classified as a free spirit. She'd held jobs, but money and moving up the corporate ladder weren't of utmost importance to her. She tended to do things that made her feel good and gave her life meaning, but lacked significant monetary value. Fortunately, she'd married into money, finding a man more than willing to take care of her and pick up any slack she left behind. Different though they were, Krysta loved her niece for all her flaws and would never chastise her for them. Though she was well taken care of, she knew what she had and was by no means unappreciative or spoiled. Krysta suspected this was why it was so easy for them to put difference aside and love one another as not only relatives, but best friends.

 

 

“You're right, we do. I admire you for what you do though. I'd love to be able to come to work with you one day, see it in action.” She smiled, winking in her aunt's direction and they both giggled. It was obvious Krysta enjoyed what she did, but Lyndsy hoped that someday her life would change. That before it was over, her life would have a kind of love and joy in it that nobody else currently around her could give.

 

 

 

 

 

**##**

“I did good with my stretches today, didn't I?” The five year old sat patiently on an exercise ball waiting for the therapist to put on his socks and lace his shoes, a triumphant grin on his face, voice as excited as it would have been seeing presents under the tree on Christmas morning.

 

 

“You sure did! I've never seen you do them like that yet.” Pride shined through Olivia's features and she was more than happy she'd opted to take the day off so as not to miss this appointment. Usually, Amanda understood that work had to take precedent and filled her in on the happenings when she returned home from a shift. This time though, they were meeting with Dr. Brett Kinsman for an evaluation and it would be determined whether or not Aidan would benefit from the use of AFO's. Both ladies felt it important they be present so they could understand the verdict and have the ability to ask their own questions if needed.

 

 

“We're gonna show Dr. Kinsman how you walk at the parallel bars now, okay? You did such a good job last time. Let's see if you can go all the way to the end without getting tired. Go all the way to Mommy before she catches you, yeah?”

 

 

“Okay! Is this to see if I need those thingies to keep my feet straight?”

 

 

“It is. They're not so bad though. If you need 'em, you get to pick the colors of the straps. Sometimes they even let you pick a color for the plastic part. Just like you pick colors for your chair.”

 

 

“Cool!”

 

 

Chuckling at his enthusiasm, Krysta finished putting on his footwear, placing him in his chair and wheeling him over to the bars on the other side of the room. Olivia was crouched down at the opposite end, anticipating seeing him walk across them for the first time. Amanda sat quietly on the chair that had unintentionally become her signature one, stationed behind her wife and waited for what she'd seen countless times but never grew tired of watching.

 

 

“Don't get up yet, love. Dr. Kinsman isn't here yet, but he should be in just a few minutes. He needs to see this.”

 

 

As if hearing his cue, Brett Kinsman breezed through the doors of Krysta Holden's therapy room. He smiled, expression warm and apologetic. “Hello Krysta. Amanda, Olivia..” he nodded in the direction of the other two women upon the mention of their names. “Sorry I couldn't be here from the start, I'm running seriously behind today.”

 

 

Krysta's eyes held compassion and understanding. With as busy as she was herself, she couldn't imagine how swamped some days must be being a doctor. The fact that he'd managed his time effectively enough to come in from out of state for a simple evaluation was impressive enough in itself. “No problem at all. We were just getting ready so you could evaluate Aidan walking at the parallel bars.”

 

 

“Perfect. I can't believe how big you've gotten!” His exclamation was laced with genuine wonder at how fast he had grown up, and a smile was still pasted on his lips as he stood behind the boy's chair.

 

 

Aidan looked down toward his breaks, doing the double check he always did and snapped them forward into the locked position when he realized he'd previously forgotten to do so. Taking hold of the bars on either side of him, he began taking small, methodical steps, almost as if nervous the doctor was watching him. Just as he was about to open his mouth and assure the boy he had nothing to be nervous about, to pretend like he wasn't even there, his steps became bigger, his walk faster. He reached his mother at the opposite end and stood, holding on to the bars, strength not failing him and she not needing to catch him.

 

 

“Excellent! I've never seen you stand at the other side when you get there. You must be feeling strong today, huh?”

 

 

The blonde child beamed, proud of himself. “Yup!”

 

 

“Do you feel strong enough to turn and walk back to this end for me?” The doctor spoke up, hoping he would say he did but asking so as to give him a choice.

 

 

“I've never had to turn before, but I can try.”

 

 

“That's the attitude we like to hear,” Krysta smiled, glancing briefly at Olivia whom she noted was doing the same. “Mommy will be there to guide you if you need help, okay? Dr. Kinsman is on this end with your chair when you get back over here.”

 

 

“Got it,” he said confidently, making them all chuckle. Stepping forward, he swayed a little, almost as if he may fall into Olivia's crouched lap.

 

 

“Do you want Mommy to help you? You can lean on me and turn.” Looking into his face she could see he was at war with himself over wanting to be independent, yet knowing his body's limits. “You're not gonna be in trouble if you need help, sweetie. Dr. Kinsman isn't here to see if you can do everything without help, just to see how you move and if you may need some things that could make it easier.”

 

 

“Okay. Can you help me?” He asked quietly, his voice small, almost as if he were ashamed to have given in. As proud as she was of him, Olivia's heart broke a little.

 

 

“Of course I can. Put your left hand over on the right side bar where your other one is.”

 

 

“But I'll fall!”

 

 

“No,” the brunette soothed gently, “you may feel like you're losing your balance a little, but as long as you keep holding on to that side you'll be fine. I'm gonna get behind you and you'll feel me helping you turn, okay? If you do fall I'll catch you, I promise.”

 

 

“Okay.” Doing as she'd asked of him, he moved his left hand from the bar beneath it and placed it next to the other on the right side, so that both hands were side by side, his knuckles almost white from gripping the shiny surface so tightly, afraid of falling. “Mommy!”

 

 

“I'm right here love, you're not going anywhere.” She slowly and carefully changed the position of his feet, proceeding to get behind him, aiding him in moving his torso and serving as a leaning post. Once turned and feeling steady enough to do so with his mother's support, he placed a hand on the free bar so that he was ready to again walk straight, going back the opposite direction. The doctor had made sure to pay close attention to his feet the entire time he moved, noting that one side did indeed turn inward while he walked just as Krysta had explained over the phone.

 

 

Once he reached the point he'd initially started from, Krysta helped him back into his chair and the boy buckled himself in. There was momentary silence in the room before Dr. Kinsman took the opportunity to speak. “You did a really good job, buddy. I'm impressed. You're making some really good progress.”

 

 

“Thank you,” he said happily.

 

 

Brett turned to Krysta and the boy's mothers, expression serious.

 

 

 

“From what I'm seeing, it does look like he could potentially benefit from AFO's at this point. Most kids don't like them at first. It may be difficult to find pants and shoes to fit over them as I mentioned to you upon his initial diagnosis, and in warmer months they may be uncomfortable and cause his feet to sweat coupled with socks and shoes. As soon as he gets home from school it'd be a good idea to take them off to let his feet breathe. He won't need them at night. Make sure to always keep both the AFO and his feet dry and clean. If they help him and do what they're supposed to, he probably won't have to wear them forever. Sometime into the teens is when they can be taken off for good if we notice positive changes. I will put in a request for approval, and call you with a date to come to another part of the hospital for a mold of his feet to be cast.”

 

 

“Perfect, thank you,” Olivia said, shaking his hand.

 

 

“Oh, just.. one question?” Amanda spoke up suddenly, mentally chastising herself for almost forgetting entirely.

 

 

“Sure,” the doctor said warmly, waiting for what it was she was about to ask.

 

 

“We talked about taking Aidan to a therapeutic riding program for people with injuries and disabilities, and decided to go ahead with it. It's something he really wants to do, and he's supposed to start soon. Should we wait for him to have his AFO's before he starts, or would he be okay without them?”

 

 

As much as she knew Aidan would hate it if they couldn't go, she wanted him to be safe first and foremost, and if that meant foregoing riding until a later date, so be it.

 

 

“I don't see it being an issue. He's got no broken bones and the AFO's are mostly just to straighten his feet. I'm sure they'll make sure he's secure and safe while riding, especially if it's a special program that deals with those kinds of things all the time. The riding instructors will mention if there's any reason he can't ride, too. But I think it will be really good for him.”

 

 

“We do, too. Thank you for the peace of mind.”

 

 

“Anytime. I have to be going, ladies, but if you have any questions all three of you know where to reach me. I'll be calling you to book that AFO fitting, Amanda.”

 

 

The blonde nodded her head, and Krysta smiled as he walked toward the door to exit. “Thanks for coming, Brett.”

 

 

“My pleasure, Ms. Holden.”

 

 

As he exited the therapy room and made his way down the corridor, some of Aidan's shyness seemed to dissipate once it was just his mothers and Krysta.

 

 

“So, you're gonna ride horses, huh? That'll be fun.”

 

 

“Yeah, I love horses! My Auntie Alex has three of 'em!”

 

 

“Does she? I love horses, too. I don't have any though. I have three cats.”

 

 

“Cats are cool. I wanted one, but Mama is allergic, so I'm not allowed. You should come watch me ride sometime! Then you can see all the horses. There's a lot.”

 

 

She smiled. “I just might.”

**##**

 

 

 

“Mommy, can we get ice cream?  _ Please? _ ”

 

 

Olivia turned in the passenger seat to look at her son, who was all smiles. “You sure you're not already hyper enough?”

 

 

“Nope!” The brunette looked at him like he was crazy, which elicited uncontrollable giggles.

 

 

“You'll spoil your dinner,” the blonde next to her piped up seriously.

 

 

“I don't care,” he laughed.

 

 

“I do.”

 

 

“But I did really good today, and we hardly ever get ice cream before dinner.”

 

 

Olivia looked over at her wife, eyebrow raised. “He has a point.”

 

 

“Aren't you supposed to be the strict one?”

 

 

“I'm versatile.”

 

 

This caused the younger woman to throw her head back and laugh heartily. “Whatever you say, my love, whatever you say. Since the vote is apparently two to one, I guess we're going to get ice cream.”

 

 

“Yessss! We win!”

 

 

 

After putting him to bed that evening, (which had taken an insane amount of time due to the sugar high from the ice cream that had indeed, spoiled even the idea of dinner) the two women laid side by side in bed locked in each others' embrace for what seemed like the first time in ages. All too often Olivia had to work late, or stress and fights kept them sleeping apart. Amanda soaked up every little moment like this that she could, for fear it would again slip through her fingers as if it hadn't been experienced at all.

 

 

“What're you thinkin' about?” Olivia's chocolate brown eyes met with Amanda's piercing blue ones, trying but failing to read her thoughts.

 

 

“Oh, nothin'. Just how happy Aidan was today. How good he seems to be doing. Sometimes in these happy moments, I feel like I have to pinch myself, like I can't get excited, because it's all gonna come crashing down on us again.”

 

 

“Baby,” she said soothingly, “you may not think so, but I feel that way too. I hold it together, but only because I feel like I have to. My worst fear is Aidan regressing, things falling apart, losing you.”

 

 

“Losing me? You're afraid of losing me?”

 

 

“How could I not be afraid of that? I'm always gone, shouldering the work outside of the home now that you're taking care of our son. Sometimes I fear that one fight we have will be the last one you'll put up with. You'll get tired of feeling like I don't listen, spending so much time alone, and leave. Honestly, I can't even say you'd be wrong in doing so.”

 

 

“Honey, listen to me. Yes, this life we have is not easy. It's the hardest thing I've ever lived through. Yes, we fight, and some of those fights I would much rather forget. But the  _ last  _ thing on my mind is leaving you. You think I wanna take you away from Aidan and do this on my own? I don't think I could, no matter how strong you insist I am. I can see you're making little efforts to try to put the intimacy and affection back in our marriage, and I'm doing the same thing. I'm trying not to get as worked up about everything, trying to be calmer, happier, nicer to you. I'm going to therapy to try to work on myself. I hated it at first, but Alex offered to pay for it and made me see its benefits.”

 

 

“Good ol' Alex,” Olivia said sarcastically, but laughing making it known there were no hard feelings between them. “What would we do without her?”

 

 

“I'd be in a lot more emotional turmoil, and Aidan wouldn't be riding horses,” the blonde grinned, her mind going back to the day not so long ago when the three of them had gone to tour Ride Again Stables.

 

 

**##**

 

 

 

“Are you excited, Aidan? You're gonna see lots of horses today.” The blonde looked at her son over her piece of buttered toast, who nodded his head vigorously, mouth full of cereal.

 

 

“Yeah!” he said enthusiastically after swallowing. “I'm most excited that Mommy gets to come too!”

 

 

“Me too, baby.” Olivia didn't usually do well with days off, but this was an exception and she was genuinely excited. Anything pertaining to her son filled her heart with a pride and joy she'd never known before, and it was a nice change of pace being able to be together an entire day, taking their time in the morning.

 

 

 

The entire way there, the five year old had insisted on listening to cheesy pop classics at the highest possible volume. The kind you loved, but would never admit being a fan of to anyone. On a normal day the women would have protested, but being in good spirits they happily obliged, joining in every so often to sing long forgotten Spice Girls lyrics at the top of their lungs.

 

 

Upon arriving, the stables looked deserted. For a moment, Amanda wondered if she'd gotten the day wrong, but then pushed the thought from her mind. She'd clarified with Grayson when he'd called back to discuss their schedules that this indeed was a good day to come by.

 

 

The ladies unbuckled their seat belts, Olivia letting herself out of the car to unpack Aidan's chair from the trunk and piece it together before loading him into it.

 

 

Amanda started to follow her wife's lead, opening her own door. “I'll go see if I can find Grayson while you do that, let him know we're here.”

 

 

“Okay. Text me where to meet you guys if you don't want to come all the way back.”

 

 

The blonde nodded, heading in the opposite direction.

 

 

After looking around the property for what felt like an hour but was likely just a few minutes, she saw no sign of Grayson Paul. Instead, her eyes rested on a girl of medium height and build, who looked to be in her late teens to early twenties. As the blonde approached her and she came into focus more clearly, she saw that she'd been preoccupied mucking stalls and hadn't noticed her.

 

 

“Hi,” Amanda spoke up carefully, even closer in proximity than before. The girl startled a little. “Sorry. I'm Amanda Rollins. I'm lookin' for Grayson Paul? He told my wife and I to meet him today about enrolling our son in his riding program.”

 

 

The girl didn't stop what she was doing, but made eye contact. “Michaela. Michaela Paul. I work for my father. He's in the house, by the way. Said I should expect you. Go on ahead and knock. He'll come right out.”

 

 

“Thank you.” The blonde nodded her head as a gesture of gratitude and walked toward the house. Reaching her finger out to ring the doorbell, she jumped back a little when a middle aged man came out before she had the chance.

 

 

“Sorry,” he said laughing, noticing he'd frightened her. “Amanda Rollins?”

 

 

Seeing her nod, he extended a rough, calloused hand. “Grayson Paul. Your wife and son here?”

 

 

“Oh, uh.. yeah.. they're back at the car.”

 

 

“Lead the way,” he said kindly, allowing her to do just that.

 

 

 

“Look at all the horses, Mama!” Aidan's excitement at seeing so many of his favorite animal all in one place was palpable.

 

 

“I see them, honey. They're pretty.”

 

 

“Can I touch 'em?”

 

 

The blonde looked to Grayson for approval.

 

 

“Sure, why not? Maybe Mommy can take you out of your chair to see them while I talk to Mama about some of the boring stuff, hmm?”

 

 

Olivia smiled. She couldn't put her finger on what it was she liked about Grayson Paul, but she was sure she liked him. “Absolutely.” Wheeling him away from the other two adults, she took him out of his chair and walked around to all the stalls, letting him peek in at the horses inside and reach out to touch the ones he liked the most. She was impressed with how docile and friendly they all were.

 

 

“So like I said, we're open five days a week one to six, and every other weekend three to seven,” the man explained as he walked alongside the blonde in the opposing direction of her wife and son. “we have different enrollment packages, monthly or yearly. Whichever works for you, just let me know.”

 

 

“Is there a huge price difference between the two?” Amanda asked carefully, not wanting to let on to a stranger they were financially struggling.

 

 

“Alex didn't tell you? She's already given us an advance to take care of the first six months. Gave me strict instructions to let you have whichever package you want after that, and she's to take care of it.”

 

 

“Oh.”

 

 

The monosyllabic response would have to suffice, as the younger woman's ability to form complete, coherent sentences failed her miserably. One may have thought she'd be mad at the lavishness of her friend's gesture; even she'd expected to be mad, but she wasn't. Instead, she was moved very closely to the point of tears. It was true that neither she nor her wife particularly enjoyed being on the receiving end of anyone else's charity and would fight tooth and nail to claw their way out of a tight spot before asking anyone for help, but knowing how much Aidan had his heart set on riding, how much he wanted to be just like other kids, she tucked her pride away just once and allowed herself to be incredibly thankful for a friend as loyal as Alex laying such a special and stress free opportunity at their feet.

 

 

 

The rest of the meeting between Amanda Rollins and Grayson Paul consisted of much information being shared, Amanda listening intently, nodding politely. Remaining speechless and without questions, simply feeling fortunate to be living in the moment. After exchanging goodbyes, but before heading to collect her wife and child, she pulled out her phone and with a smile gracing her lips sent her closest friend the only words she could think of to say.

 

_ Grayson told me what you did... THANK YOU!! From both of us. Xoxoxo. -A _

 

 

**##**

 

 

The first weekend that Aidan Rollins was to be given opportunity to actually get on a horse at Ride Again, Krysta Holden had made it a point to be present to watch, and she was happy she could. She'd learned from Amanda that morning that Olivia had been called to work, and felt horribly about having to miss his first time. Krysta however, had the weekend off and they'd asked her a few days prior if she would go. Aidan had mentioned it continuously as he had a special kind of relationship with the therapist. She wasn't really supposed to interact with her clients outside of work, but once in a while there was that one kid who just tugged at her heart strings and caused her to bend the rules. What the big bosses didn't know wouldn't hurt them. It would give her an opportunity to see any changes in the boy while he rode, and (she hoped) take his mind off his other parent's absence.

 

 

Standing by the outskirts of the fence around the riding ring, she patiently waited for the day's events to unfold.

 

 

“Aidan, this is Aimee, and that's Mr. Paul's daughter Michaela. They and all the other people who work here are trained to help you and keep you guys good and safe while you ride, okay? I'll be over next to Krysta watching everything, I promise.” Amanda buckled her son's helmet, adjusting the tightness to fit his head without falling off.

 

 

“Okay. You got your camera right? I wanna show Mommy some pictures!”

 

 

“You bet. Have fun, okay?”

 

 

“Love you.”

 

 

“Me too, baby.”

 

 

 

 

After a drawn out introduction to Starr, (the horse to which he'd been assigned for the session) and help from Aimee and a couple of other staff to mount her and get him feeling safe and steady on her back, Michaela stood ready to guide the horse around the ring with a lead rope. In time, depending on how long he remained a member of their program, he would likely become extremely comfortable around all the horses as well as the people who worked there. The first day anyone rode, regardless of age, comfort level or expertise, they took the precaution of the horse being led around the ring by a member of the staff so as to allow animal and rider to become accustomed to each other.

 

 

In the beginning, Aidan had been nervous, his limbs even noticeably shaking if you looked close enough. Michaela had thought at first that he was going to ask her to stop, which she certainly would have had no problem doing. Many kids, even adults, felt that way on their first day. But he'd pushed forward through any fears he may have had and eventually they'd even picked up speed. He'd forgotten about all the other participants that surrounded him, and focused in on his mother every time they moved past her.

 

 

“Look Mama, I'm riding!”

 

 

 

“He's doing so good,” Krysta said from outside the fence, looking to Amanda as she waved at his passing form, snapping a few pictures as they went.

 

 

“I know, I had a feeling this would be good for him.”

 

 

“He'll be reaping the benefits if he stays with it as he grows, too.”

 

 

“I hope so.”

 

 

 

A little before seven in the evening, the staff at Ride Again decided to wrap things up so any newcomers could have time to socialize with other veterans of the program. It was something they always did after their weekend lessons, a tradition Michaela was in charge of overseeing ever since her return to her father's life not quite two years ago. As antisocial and moody as she could be, the participants of the program brought out a whole other side to her personality. Especially the little ones. Aidan Rollins had struck a particular chord in her, and with him being the new kid on the block she felt an obligation to be extra kind and take him under her wing even more than she did any of the others.

 

 

While she and Aimee were tending to Aidan, the rest of the staff were going about their own duties, some helping other people, some leading the horses back to their stalls, some even socializing with or answering questions from loved ones of the participants. Eventually seeing Aidan back in his chair and not in the presence of staff members, horses or other kids, Amanda took the opportunity to go be with her son, leaving Krysta to her own devices outside the riding ring.

 

 

“Nice night, isn't it?” A man's voice, low and pensive, stirred her from her thoughts, causing her to jump back a few inches from the fence. “Did I scare you?” He laughed, but the expression he donned was apologetic. “I seem to be real good at that. Sorry. Wasn't my intention.”

 

 

 

“No worries. All's forgiven. To answer your question though, it is very nice tonight.”

 

 

“Some nights I come out here long after the chores are done, animals asleep, for no reason at all except to think. Something about being in the presence of animals that clears your head, I guess.”

 

 

 

“I'll agree with that. Sometimes I finish up after a long day's work and my spirits are instantly lifted knowing I have fur babies waiting on me at home. There are times when I feel like they know me better than I know myself.”

 

 

“Animals are often very intuitive. Sometimes, I truly do believe they know us and our surroundings better than we do. If you're lucky enough to meet even one human being in your lifetime with these same qualities, you should never take them for granted. Unlike that of animals, the undying loyalty of another person is not easily regained after they've been given reasons to revoke it.”

 

 

There was a prolonged lull in the conversation, Krysta turning over each word he'd said in her head, not feeling it necessary to have a response at the ready on the tip of her tongue. Something about Grayson Paul left her wondering, thirsting for knowledge despite the fact they'd just met. It had been a long time since any man had intrigued her in such a way so quickly. There was something haunting and mysterious about him; all the love, desire, pain and sorrow seeming to mix together so you didn't know where one ended and the other began. But his eyes, they held it all. All of his depth, all of his secrets, were so obviously pooled beneath them.

 

 

“And you've had to take back your undying loyalty, have you?” She'd blurted the question without thinking, and it had come out differently than she'd intended. She hoped that by asking it, she hadn't overstepped some unknown line.

 

 

“I've had to do more than that, my dear. But that's a story for another day, not to be told out in the open, especially in the presence of so many young ears.” He winked, letting her know that he hadn't taken offense to her question.

 

 

“I'd like to hear it.”

 

 

“Well, maybe I'll get to telling you over a cup of coffee, If I see you around again.”

 

 

“Maybe you will.” Returning the wink he'd extended to her moments before, she broke away to go find Aidan and say her goodbyes.

 

 

Krysta Holden had learned long ago that life was chalked full of joys, regrets and little pleasures. What she hadn't expected upon arriving at Ride Again Stables, was to find such pleasure in making the acquaintance of its owner, or the feelings that surfaced when she thought of seeing him again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
